


Howl At The Moon

by 00Wandering_Ghost00



Series: Once Bitten, Twice as Bad [1]
Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horror, F/M, Fun, Halloween, Mary is a badass, Minor Character Death, Please Don't Hate Me, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 15:29:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12083934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/00Wandering_Ghost00/pseuds/00Wandering_Ghost00
Summary: October, 1777. Something sinister is taking its victims in Setauket. As the full moon draws near, and more bodies are discovered, the locals and the occupying British army has to work together, to expel whatever goes bump in the night.A.k.a. I’m bad with titles, and had to prepare for Halloween. ;)





	Howl At The Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo... This thing was circling around in my head for a while (And I have a really Halloween-crazed best friend, so this is partially a gift for her ^^ ).  
> Please don't hate me for it. I tried my best.

Update: Made a preview for this...sort of. [Howl At The Moon](https://sta.sh/026bfn5522c1)

Sorry for spamming you guys.

* * *

 

Anna Strong wiped the sweat from her brow as she was cleaning up the tables in the tavern. It was early, the first rays of sunlight barely peeked out from the heavy clouds that occupied the sky in the last few days. She bit back a yawn, and went out to the back yard, to empty the bucket with the dirty water. As she opened the door, she saw a large footprint. It resembled a dog’s, but was simply too big, and partially dissolved in the mud. Anna raised her brow, but didn’t really mind the thing. She emptied the bucket, poured fresh water from the well, and went back. The place had to be cleaned before they open.

 

On the same morning, Major Hewlett also tried to remain awake, as he was writing reports and trying to hush his concerned thoughts of a certain Captain, who just got back to the town. After sending him to court martial, the Major thought they will get rid of Simcoe for good. Well, fate had other plans. He saw the Rangers drilling on his way to the former church-now headquarters, and heard the Captain barking orders. Hewlett couldn’t help but think that Simcoe’s already annoying voice became utterly unbearable when he was shouting. He tried to ignore it throughout the morning, but in vain. Around noon, the Major thought he might give himself a little break, and was heading to the tavern. It was full with soldiers of his on one side, the Queen’s Rangers on the other. Both parties glanced at each other suspiciously, hushed conversations regarding the irregulars could be heard. Edmund was searching for a free chair, when he accidentally bumped into Anna. “Oh, my apologies!” he exclaimed. “Oh, no need, Major. It was my mistake.” Anna said with a tired smile on her face. “You look exhausted, Mrs. Strong.” Hewlett stated. “It’s nothing. I just had a hard time sleeping last night.” Anna explained, while balancing a tray full of mugs over to one of the tables. Hewlett followed her. “Was there something bothering you?” he asked in a concerned tone. Anna put the mugs on the table, brushed off the curious glances of the redcoats sitting around it, and turned to the Major to explain. “I thought I heard noises outside. Like some kind of an animal lurking in my garden… Also heard it growling like a dog, or…” “A wolf?” a high, sing-song male voice interrupted Anna’s sentence. Hewlett looked over Anna’s shoulder with a disapproving expression on his face. “Captain, I think the conversation here is between Mrs. Strong and myself only.” Simcoe towered over both of them, leaning to the bar behind Anna’s back. “Mrs. Strong already asked me to look into the matter.” he stated indifferently. Hewlett looked back at her. “I…It’s true.” Anna stuttered. “Though I have to state that I only asked Captain Simcoe to look around because he was insisting to help me.” “And why wouldn’t I?” he asked with his best fake innocence. “I’m here to help the people of this town in whatever they need.” Anna, not being able to turn her back towards that man any longer, stepped aside to be able to look both men in the eyes. “I don’t care which one of you, but someone has to look around for that wolf or dog. It might threaten the livestock or children.” And with that, she left the Major and Captain, and went back to her tedious and humiliating work of pouring ale and cleaning up vomit.

 “There are no wolves around here.” Hewlett stated, looking up at Simcoe’s smug smile. “Whatever you’re up to John, you better not run around spreading panic in the townspeople.” “Oh, they are like sheep. They will panic, no matter if I tell them about the wolf or not.” the Captain stated and looked around. “They are like a nice, big herd of gullible sheep. And that’s what we like about them, isn’t it?”

Something in his voice made Hewlett cringe. He left the younger man without a word, forgetting even why he was visiting the tavern. He went back to his office and was working until late at night. He barely noticed Mary Woodhull, who brought him some leftovers from lunch. He just waved her off with a short “Thank you.”, and buried himself in paperwork. That had to be done.

 The same night found Abraham in his secret cellar, writing a coded message he was about to send to his friends about news in town. He heard a loud bark in the distance, and caught his head up, but shook it off and went back to writing. After he finished, he blew out the candle, and rushed to the tree on the shore, where he usually hid secret letters. After his deed was done, he fixed his beanie and turned around to head home, like someone with a well done job would do. Then he heard the sound again. It wasn’t a dog barking. A sharp, angered howl of a wolf came from quite close, and made Abe’s blood freeze in his veins. He cursed the redcoats for taking away all firearms. If he had his rifle… Something rushed towards him from the bush, and Abraham decided it was a good time to make a run for it. He ran until he saw the dim lights from Whitehall’s windows. Before he opened the front door, he heard that ear-piercing howl again, and something, very muchly resembling to…laughter?

Mary woke up the sound of the front door slamming and Abe rushing to their room. She never saw him that scared. “What happened? Where were you?” she asked, but got no answer. Abraham slowly peeked out from behind the curtain. “What is out there?” Mary asked in a hushed voice. Abe gestured her to come closer. “Do you see that?” he asked. Mary looked but all she saw was the trees swaying in the wind, and some fallen leaves hovering above the grass. “What is it that I should see?” she asked. Then she saw a glimpse of something. A pair of glowing eyes looking directly at them from the trees, then vanishing into thin air. “Anna said there’s a wolf lurking around Setauket.” Abraham explained. “But I never thought it would be this big. It almost attacked me, followed me home.” Mary furrowed her brow. Not because of the mention of Abe’s lover, but to the curious fact that a lone wolf, and an enormous size as is, chose the dangers of coming close to a town instead of the safety of the forest. “Wolves live in packs.” She said. “There must be more of them if this one is here.” Abe nodded. “Yeah, I suppose so. Better watch out for Thomas though. Don’t let him play outside unattended.”

 

Captain Simcoe tried to dry his unruly auburn hair with a towel in vain. He just finished with his bath, and was about to go to bed, when he heard a small knock on his door. He opened, and was amused to find Anna staring at him. “Mrs. Strong, what do I owe the honour of…?” he asked, leaning a bit to the doorframe, preventing her from entering. “I’m sorry to bother you in this ungodly hour, Captain, I just heard you came in recently.” she said. “I was out, searching for your wolf.” he answered, shifting a bit from his left leg to his right. “I thought so. May I ask if you found anything?” Simcoe shook his head. “Not yet, I’m afraid. Other than the huge paw print behind the tavern, I found no evidence of the animal in question, or if it wandered into other property in town.” Anna sighed, and lowered her head. “I see.” “You don’t have to worry about that.” the Captain chirped. “If I find anything, or if I can shoot that beast, you will be the first to know.” he smiled at her, and made Anna feel like a rabbit in front of a fox. “A wolf’s pelt that big would make a perfect winter coat.” she heard him say. “Certainly.” she answered. “Goodnight, Captain.” “Goodnight, Mrs. Strong.” after she left, Simcoe blew out the candle, and laid down on his bed, gritting his teeth, and holding his wounded left leg. Sometimes it still pained him, though the injury was old and sealed up long ago. The half-moon’s light illuminated the room, and the Captain, who folded over his nightgown and took a look at his leg. Nothing. Only a few, light lines of the scar that was left there; months ago. It still hurt so much, like it was fresh. Simcoe let out a small grunt and cocooned himself in his blanket. At least he didn’t feel the pain if he was sleeping.

                                                                                     ***

 

Major Hewlett stood in the crowd of townspeople, astonished and repulsed by the horror that a desperate farmer by the name pf Appleby reported to him, and urged him to take a look. Almost the whole town was at the site when he arrived on the back of his horse. The Appleby farm was a massacre. All the sheep, goats and two of the cows were slaughtered and partially eaten by some vicious predator. The farmer claimed that he saw one huge wolf in his barn, even tried to shoot it, but to no avail. After killing almost all of his livestock, the beast ran off to the woods. “Who will pay for the havoc this rabid animal caused?” Appleby complained. “What if our farms are next?” asked another from the townsfolk. “Can’t someone do something?” “Of course someone will do something!” the local Magistrate stepped forth from the crowd, and stood next to Hewlett. “The Major is here, and he will order his men to hunt down the wolf.” The Major was about to object, but he saw Simcoe’s smirking face in the crowd with a few of his gooneys at his side, so he cleared his throat and said “Thank you, Richard. I was about to say the same. I will task all my men I can spare, to hunt down the animal.” “And they will fail miserably, like they always do.” the Captain’s cheerful tone was in contrast with the nice amount of snark he applied in his speech. “The Rangers are already out in the woods, looking for the wolf pack as we speak.” Townspeople backed away from him, and gave him suspicious glances. The Captain didn’t look concerned about it though. “We appreciate your concern, Captain Simcoe.” Hewlett said dryly. “But contrary to your statement, the Regulars have the situation under control, and have no need of aid from the Queen’s Rangers.” Simcoe’s smirk was making his face similar to a wolf’s. “Would you bet the town on it, Major?” he asked, and Hewlett couldn’t answer. The townsfolk were exchanging looks between them, then left the soldiers and the devastated farmer alone on the site.

The Appleby farm was not the only one that got sacked by the mysterious giant wolf. Several other claims landed on Hewlett’s desk by the week’s end, along with a report on a missing person. John Robeson, local drunk and suspected smuggler had disappeared without a trace. The wolf-sightings became more common, even the soldiers started to rumour to have seen a huge, wolf-like creature perching on rooftops, watching them, as they were heading back to garrison for the night, or stood post at night watch. Townsfolk reported a sense of dread whenever they had to go through the forest, and a pair of glowing eyes watching them. The howls however, could be heard clearly by anyone at every night. Mary Woodhull even asked her husband to teach her how to shoot. The nights turned into living nightmares filled with wolf-howls and the dying bleats of domesticated animals. No one in Setauket dared to leave their houses after dark, only the soldiers roamed the night, ready to shoot whatever crosses their way. Days and nights passed in this tense state, and people began to spread even wilder rumours. Another townsperson went missing. Hewlett buried himself in his work, ignoring the hearsay as much as he could. Abraham ran away from another encounter with the same big wolf, but this time it was dangerously close to his shack next to the remains of his old house. He even could catch a glance of the animal. Unusually large, with jaws that could easily swallow his entire head, and later he would swear he saw the creature rise on two feet, towering over 7 feet tall. And it wasn’t alone. Abe saw three or four pairs of the same glowing eyes before he ran as fast as he could and once again locked Whitehall’s door behind him.

 “They are becoming bolder with every day.” Richard Woodhull told his son after Abraham told him about his almost deadly encounter last night. “Neither Hewlett’s men nor the Rangers were able to catch these wolves.” “And now two of our neighbours are missing. Not that anyone would miss Robeson, but still.” Abe added. “What are you suppose we do?” the two men heard Mary asking. “I will talk with the Major.” Richard answered. “Let’s see if he can pull out his head from the sand and finally organize a hunt. Before another person, god forbid a child goes missing.”

 Hewlett had other problems though. The earthly remains of Robeson were found, barely recognizable. Some animal must have eaten the body, for it was barely more than a few sinews and bones. Mostly bones. What horrified the Major along with the few recruits he took with him to the location, was that the victim’s face was more-or less intact. Had enough of it to be identified, as Hewlett described it later. The remaining one eye of the dead man was reflecting horror and shock. The soldiers dug a deep grave, to avoid the possible raid of scavenging animals, and disposed of the body. “I’m afraid, there is no other choice left, but to torch the woods and get rid of these pests.” the Major sighed, and ordered his men to follow him back to garrison. He suddenly felt the hairs on the back of his neck rising. Something was watching. He turned around, but saw nothing, just a few swaying branches, and falling leaves. “Hm. Curious.” he muttered to himself, and followed his soldiers. as long as he walked back to garrison, he couldn’t shake off the feeling of someone or something watching him.

Abe walked into the tavern to see if Anna is all right, on the same day when he suddenly heard a familiar, annoying voice talking quite close to him. “Ever noticed how good of a runner Abraham Woodhull is?” Simcoe asked from one of the Rangers. “Once he starts, you can’t catch him.” Abe decided to hide among the crowd, and listen some more of the Captain’s praise of his running skills, and see if he says something more interesting. Sadly, things didn’t turn out favourably to him. One of the Rangers spotted him, and whispered to Simcoe, who turned around. “Well, I did smell cabbages. Good day, Mr. Woodhull.” “Captain.” Abe returned the greeting briefly. “If you’re here to see Mrs. Strong, then I’m afraid you are in to disappointment.” the Captain stated. “She is out to see Major Hewlett on some matter.” “Thank you for the information.” Abe forced a smile, and left, feeling the piercing gaze of Simcoe’s arctic blue eyes in his back. After he was out from the tavern, Abraham started to think. The Captain was talking about that he’s a good runner. He never ran away from Simcoe, rather avoided him if possible. Or was he? Abe also couldn’t help but notice how close knit the Rangers were. Like a pack of wolves. Hunting and living together… Abraham stopped his walking, and looked up to the steel grey sky. “You’re going mad, man.” he told himself. But still…

 Mary was gathering the clean laundry the next day, before rain would begin to fall. She suddenly heard her son giggling and squealing, so she went over to see what’s the cause of such joy. Her blood froze in her veins when she saw the huge wolf, lying next to Thomas and nudging him with its muzzle. The animal didn’t act threateningly, but Mary still put down the laundry basket, and went back to the house to fetch Richard’s gun. She prayed to find her son alive when she returns outside. Thomas was happily riding the brown wolf’s back, pulling its ears, ruffling its fur, the animal didn’t seem to mind. Mary didn’t dare to raise the gun, afraid of startling the animal or hitting Thomas, so she waited. The wolf carefully pulled the child down from its back, and stood up. It was bigger than a calf, and looked Mary right in the eye. She never saw a wolf with clear blue eyes before. Mary held the gun up, and the wolf lowered its head to lick Thomas’ face, then it darted off to the woods. Mary shot, hitting the animal’s ear. It’s pained howl was a disturbing mix of an animal’s and a man’s sound. Frightened, she gathered her son and the laundry, and locked herself up in the house.

                   

                                                                                           ***

 

Another week passed by, another farm was destroyed and some other farmers went missing. The Rangers brought back a huge wolf pelt one day, earning the grudging respect of townsfolk, and the resentment of the garrison and the regulars. Simcoe wore a patch on his left ear, which was wounded in the battle with the beast, so he said. “It was aiming at my throat, but was only able to nick my ear.” Hewlett was suspicious, and he didn’t think the only wolf was the one the Rangers brought down. Mary Woodhull reported to see a brown one, and the pelt belonged to a common grey coated wolf. So there was at least one more. He also couldn’t help but notice Anna’s discomfort, as the Captain went over to her, and leaned closer to say “I promised you to bring you a perfect pelt for a coat.” The tavern was full once more, and everyone saw the interaction between the barmaid and the Ranger. As it was expectable, rumours started to spread.

 

“Everyone thinks I’m a harlot.” Anna cried into Hewlett’s shirt. “There, there my dear…” he tried to cheer her up awkwardly “People talk and they talk nonsense. It’s just gossip, and it will go away.” “Not if the Captain can help it.” she said sadly. “He’s creepy, and violent. No one in her sane mind would want to be even in the same room with him.” Hewlett agreed with her on that, but he had to admit that until this time, no one but Simcoe and his Rangers were able to get one of the wolves threatening the town. And the townsfolk began to trust more in the skills of the infamous Captain, than they trusted the good Major’s. On the following week, Simcoe organized a hunt through the woodlands surrounding Setauket, and the nearby towns and villages. Many men volunteered to help him and the Rangers with their search, and for everyone’s surprise, the Captain was grateful, and quite humble. He planned the sweep, splitting the parties and assigning people territories to search. He was more than happy to see Abraham’s face among the volunteers. “What do I owe the honour, Mr. Woodhull?” Simcoe asked smarmily. Abe went over to him, and said on a low voice “I know what you are.” The Captain laughed. “Really now? Like, taller than you? A Queen’s Ranger? Or what exactly do you mean by that?” Abraham didn’t answer, just smiled at Simcoe and left.

 

One day later the sweep began, and people were roaming the woods with torches and pitchforks and muskets. Mary was surprised to learn that Major Hewlett also volunteered with some of his men, and that Captain Simcoe was tasked with keeping an eye on her and Anna Strong in Whitehall. The two women exchanged suspicious glances, sitting by the fireplace. Mary eyed their so-called protector for a while, then turned to Anna. “You know… I shot the wolf on the same ear the Captain wears a patch on.” “What? You mean he’s the wolf?” Mary shook her head. “No, it’s just very suspicious of a coincidence, isn’t it?” Before Anna could answer, the Captain’s voice came from the hallway “Just because I wear a patch on one ear, that doesn’t mean I’m deaf.” Mary turned around and saw his tall frame leaning to the wall, facing them. She wondered how long he’s been standing there, listening to their talk. “If you’re so curious about our chatter Captain, why don’t you take a seat?” Anna asked a bit coldly. Then they all heard a loud thump, and a growl from outside. “What was that?” Mary asked. Simcoe took his rifle, and walked out to the hall. “I go take a look. You ladies stay where you are!” and with that he left. Mary looked at Anna. “I don’t like it.” she said. “What on earth is going on here?” Anna asked. “Every man is out chasing phantoms, and we’re left with Lucifer himself.” Minutes went by in unnerving silence, then a loud sound of a musket fire could be heard, and a blood-curdling howl and growl, followed by the Captain’s screaming. Anna covered her mouth with her hand, as Mary stood up, and went to the door. “What are you going to do?” Anna asked. “Something happened. We might be in danger here.” Mary answered. “Whatever is out there, it got the Captain. He was a trained soldier with weapons, we are women, and unarmed. We have no chance!” Anna tried to reason. Mary shook her head. “I just peek out and come back.” Anna lowered her head and sneaked to the kitchen, to grab a knife or something she can use against whatever horror was lurking around the house. Mary in the meantime was sneaking around the building, over the porch, following Simcoe’s footprints. She saw the rifle on the ground, the blood on the wall, and the patch lying under a bush. Captain Simcoe was nowhere to be found, neither alive nor dead. Mary took the weapons from the ground and ran back to the house, only to be almost hit on the head with a frying pan by Anna. “Christ, Mary!” she exclaimed. “I thought you were…” “Captain Simcoe?” Mary asked. “I think he will no longer stalking you. According to the amount of blood on the wall out there, he’s dead.”

Far away from Whitehall, the search party also heard a loud howling, and some others joining it. Abe looked at Hewlett and the rest of the redcoats he accompanied. All of them were startled, and looking around, seeing wolves in every shrub. Abe wished he could tell about his suspicion, but knowing Hewlett to be a man of science, he will probably say that he lost his mind. And maybe he would be right. After all, would a sane man suspect another of being a werewolf? A cold breeze shook the trees, and extinguished the torch in corporal Eastin’s hand. The soldier muttered a curse, and stopped to ignite the torch again. Abraham looked up to the sky. The full moon was shining down on them, through the bony branches of the trees. Eastin didn’t have much luck with his flint, so they were practically sitting in the dark, broken only by the sparks the corporal managed to make. Hewlett also looked up and admired the stars for a moment before turning back to his men. “Hurry up Eastin, we don’t want to sit around until morning.” he said. Before his subordinate could answer, a growling sound came from the trees. Abe could see the pair of glowing eyes getting nearer, and he nudged the Major. Hewlett turned his head to see what Woodhull is pointing at, but he saw nothing. Behind them, one of the soldiers screamed, and Abraham felt something warm spraying on his face. Eastin managed to spark the torch, so they could clearly see what happened. One of the redcoats lie down on the ground dead, with a creature above him none of the men ever seen before. It was a grotesque mix of wolf and human, towering over seven feet, with black fur covering most of its body…And remains of a Queen’s Ranger’s uniform. Abraham grabbed Hewlett’s arm “Run!” he yelled and did just that. They ran, and heard the rest of their search party’s dying screams. They heard the howls of the wolves, that eerily resembled distorted laughter. They ran deeper into the woods, and found another search party, met with the same fate as theirs. All the dead were townsmen or redcoats. Hewlett’s hand was shaking in anger. “The Rangers did this.” he stated. “We got to go back to Whitehall.” Abe added. “Have to tell the rest of the town, and my father.” suddenly a terrifying realization came to him. “My family is left in town with Simcoe!” he exclaimed. “Hurry, we must save them!” Hewlett was keen on the idea of leaving the bloodied forest, more importantly, losing the Rangers-turned werewolves, which drew a circle around them.

Mary and Anna stood back to back in front of the stairs in the hallway. It was not long after Mary discovered the left behind weapons and ear patch of the Captain that the creatures broke the door in and forced them out of the kitchen to the hall. Mary looked up to the distorted face of the thing standing on two legs before her. It had auburn fur, a tail like of a wolf, and its hind legs were also like an animal’s. But his upper body was like a human’s, with arms ending in clawed hands. But the most terrifying feature the werewolf had was its head. Long muzzle, distorted into a constant snarl, for all skin and fur was tightly sticking on it, with a mane resembling hair and a pair of crystal blue eyes… It also was missing an ear. Anna faced another one, an all black coated, furiously growling creature. Mary began to pray, and back away, further on the stairs to the upper level. Anna slowly followed her, for the two werewolves didn’t seem to be attacking yet. A door swung open upstairs, and both creatures turned their heads. “Mary, what is this ruckus…” Richard wanted to ask, but then he saw the werewolves downstairs. “Holy mother of God!”

 

Abe and Hewlett stormed into the garrison with the howling horde on their tails. The soldiers fired at the werewolves, but to no avail. the Major rummaged through his books while Abe was getting impatient and desperate. “What are you doing? We must get my family out of Whitehall!” “We will, but as you can see, common weapons are useless.” Hewlett answered. He never was one to believe in superstition, but he couldn’t find any other explanation on the night’s events. Finally; he found what he was looking for. And old book of folklore he got from his late grandmother. “Here, read this!” he showed Abraham the part about werewolves. “It’s a curse called Lycanthropy. It can be cured with belladonna, and according to this, silver also harms the beasts.” Abe scoffed. “Yea, right. Where do we get enough silver to take down the whole unit of Rangers along with their leader?”

It was a good question, and they didn’t have much time left to think. The werewolves flooded the town, and scattered, leaving the garrison alone, and attacking townspeople instead. Hewlett mustered all of the silverware he could from the cantina, and ordered them to be melted into bullets. He hoped it would be enough to stop the massacre that was raging in the streets. Abraham scavenged the kitchen for herbs, but since belladonna was highly toxic, he couldn’t find any. After the bullets were made, the soldiers, now armed with something they could use against their enemy, marched out and began to hunt down the Rangers. Abe took a silver knife; in case he needs it. He and Hewlett were heading to Whitehall then, to save what could be saved.

 

Anna, Richard, Thomas and Mary were all locked up in Woodhull senior’s room, blocking the door with every piece of furniture they could move. Mary aimed her gun at the window, in case a monster was about to enter from there. They heard shooting from downstairs, and exchanged glances. They might be saved after all.

 

Hewlett wasn’t surprised when he faced the rusty-coated werewolf with the injured ear. He wasn’t surprised of the fury it attacked him with. What surprised him was that he survived the whole thing. The werewolves worked together in perfect sync, like a two-headed monster. Abe ran upstairs to check on his family, leaving Hewlett and his men to deal with the creatures. Shots were fired, some hit the werewolves and left their fur and skin smoking. Two, three, even four rounds of silver bullets weren’t enough to kill the red beast, it was tearing up flesh, clawing, biting, leaving a rain of blood and gore in his wake. The black wolf was wounded, and it ran away, not going berserk like it’s partner. After a while all the silver bullets and all the King’s men ran out, and Hewlett once again found himself alone, face-to face with a monster he knew too well. He ran his hand through his short, dark brown hair – he lost his wig somewhere during the battle – and backed away until he reached the building’s wall. The werewolf closed in, though bleeding from multiple wounds, it still was a terrifying thing to behold. Hewlett was thinking on what to do, and tightened his grip on the handle of his silver-coated knife. The wolf-man grabbed his throat with his clawed hand, and growled, blood dripping from its mouth mixed with saliva. It was the last chance to do something, and Edmund chose to buy some time. “John, I know you’re still there!” he shouted at the monster. “You have to stop this nightmare, listen to me!” The werewolf tilted its head like a dog when it finds something interesting. “Let these people go!” Hewlett pleaded. “You only want to kill me. Do it, and let everyone else live!” The werewolf contorted its face into something like a mockery of a smile, and to Edmund’s horror, it spoke. “Oh, my hero.” the Captain’s high, sing-song voice was raspy and distorted, but recognizable. “Let me point out to you where you are mistaken, before I tear your pathetic little head off and devour your remains: I want to kill everyone. Their death feeds me, makes me stronger. Also my pack mates are hungry, I can’t let them go on without food now can I? What kind of a monster would that make me?” he even chuckled on his horrible joke. Edmund sighed. “Then you leave me no choice.” he cut the werewolf’s wrist with his knife, and as its grip loosened on him, thrusted the silver blade into its chest. The creature fell over, and began to shrink a little, with disgusting cracking of bones and joints, twisting in agony of the transformation. Finally, the werewolf was gone, replaced by Captain Simcoe’s wounded and naked body, still bleeding, but fighting himself to his feet. Hewlett ran over to him, and knocked him over, grabbing the Captain’s hands, and pinning them above his head. He tried to break free, thrashing and writhing, and almost succeeded in kicking the Major off of him, but Hewlett was desperate. This beast just told him that he will kill every single person in the town. He saddled himself over the taller man, and raised his knife. “I’m sorry John.” he said. The Captain began to beg for his life, but was cut short when the blade went through his heart. He coughed blood, then light faded from his eyes. Edmund felt empty. He rose from the corpse and went into the house, to see if he can help.  

The remaining werewolves were hunted down, and caught to be treated with belladonna in the next few days. The bodies of the townspeople and werewolves were packed up on a wagon, to be buried far away from town. Anna escorted Major Hewlett to the garrison, and stayed with him for a while. The Woodhulls were also happy to be through with the nightmare. Some townsfolk helped the undertaker haul the dead to the wagon, the last of them being the Captain’s corpse. His eyes were shut, his face peaceful. Like he was just asleep, if one could overlook the thick trails of blood coming from his mouth, covering his chin and neck, sticking the hair on his chest together. The undertaker covered the body, with slight discomfort. “At least they could dress him up.” he muttered, and prodded the horse to go. He was a long way from town, humming to himself, never minding the rocky road, and the bumps. Also not paying attention to the hand with long nails that carefully peeled away the cover from below. The last thing the undertaker knew was a hard pull and a fairly handsome face of a supposedly dead young man, smirking and then biting into his neck.

 The corpse wagon was found days later by the redcoats. The smell of rotting flesh was unbearable. Among the dead, they found the undertaker. Captain Simcoe was nowhere to be found. Neither alive nor dead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy (early) Halloween (or Day of the Dead, or whatever is celebrated in your country) everyone! :)


End file.
